After the Fall
by BlackOnyxEyes
Summary: Short colletion of one-shots of each of the characters, shortly after MoA. Post-Tartarus moments. In progress.


"You have been lucky," the voice rumbled from inside the pit. "I'm afraid your dear friends will not be as fortunate, though…" The voice laughed; a cold, heartless sound which chilled him to the bone. With a sinking feeling, he realised that the voice was probably right; his friends didn't stand a chance against that voice. There was no escape from it. There was no escape from Tartarus.

But then, in the middle of his despair, a faint flicker of hope shone; it was feeble, and nearly extinguished under the overwhelming power of that voice, but it was still there: his friends were together. One powerful demigod with his super-smart girlfriend. They'd be able to find a way out. Why, even he'd gone down there, on his own, and made it back out alive! The more he thought about it, the surer he became that it was the truth. He felt that spark of hope grow inside him, until he was certain of it; they were _not_ going to die in Tartarus. He refused to believe anything else. He was about to laugh in spite of himself, at his own worries; he wouldn't let a voice get the better of him, would he?

His high spirits snuffed out like a candle flame as soon as the voice spoke again.

"Foolish boy," it crowed. "Do you think I'll let them get away that easily? Don't you remember your own little trip to my domain?" The bottomless pit filled with the voice's booming, ear-splitting chuckles. "Do you remember, or should I show it to you myself?" the voice crooned over the noise.

"Don't! No, please!" he shouted desperately, but his cry was drowned out by the voice's merciless, malicious laughs echoing around the cave. He kept pleading, but deep down he knew it was no use; he'd be forced to relieve all the pain, misery and hopelessness he'd felt during his long, tortuous journey through the abyss. His stomach tied into knots and his hands began to tremble at the mere thought of it. The anguish started to weigh down on his shoulders again, and this time, it seemed that he wouldn't be able to carry the heavy burden; the effort would crush him.

The black void seemed to call to him as it drew him closer and closer to sheer, never-ending cliff drop into the darkness. He fell to his knees at the edge of the huge chasm, hunched over and defeated. He bowed his head and closed his eyes; there was no escape from the voice. No hope left inside of him to think there was a way out of Tartarus. The only hopes he'd had for his friends had been dashed to pieces, replaced by fear and anxiety; because there is no hope, no light in the darkest, gloomiest place on Earth. Tartarus.

The unyielding Spirit of the Abyss laughed. The voice laughed as it forced him to bring up memories from the darkest corners of his mind. Laughed as it made him remember the times when he'd been nearly driven insane during his tedious search for the Doors of Death. Remember the long, seemingly endless nights he'd been locked up inside that giant bronze jar in a death trance, waiting for Persephone's fruit to run out or for death to come. And it laughed as it made him replay the scene, over and over again, the memory that hurt the most; when they fell into the pit. When they fell into the pit. When they fell into the pit...

_He thrust his hand out to them, knowing it was useless, but not giving up for the sake of his friend. He knew what it was like down there, knew the horrible monsters that crawled all over the place. A place even the all-powerful, immortal gods didn't dare to go._

_His friend was holding onto a tiny ledge, hanging on for dear life, while his girlfriend clung to him, being dragged to the Underworld by one of Arachne's silk threads._

_Everything was a muddle of confusion; no one had noticed two people had fallen into the chasm, except him and his half-sister, who was trying to call to the others, but it was impossible to hear her shouts above the din._

_ It was too late to do anything. Too late to save his friends..._

_"The other side, Nico! We'll see you there. Understand?"_

_He did understand._

_"Lead them there! Promise me!"_

_"I—I will."_

_And then he let go._

_He didn't take his eyes off them as they plummeted down into the depths of Tartarus, not until they disappeared, engulfed by the shadows._

* * *

Nico woke up with a start, beads of sweat running down his face, hands clammy with perspiration. He heard a scream, and then realised that the sound was coming from his own mouth. He quickly closed it so he wouldn't wake anyone, then curled up on his bed and tried—and failed—to slow his gasping breaths, and steady his racing pulse. _It was just a dream_, he told himself. _Only another demigod dream_. But that didn't stop the shaking, or made him forget the horrible images he'd seen. _Only a dream..._ He shut his eyes for a second, trying to clear his head. And that was a huge mistake.

Snapshots from his most recent nightmare flashed before his closed lids, so quickly that it was hard to tell them apart. Darkness—blood—the cave—Hazel—the empty bronze jar—monsters—Percy and Annabeth falling into the pit. He buried his head in his pillow to muffle his screams. His head throbbed, and his heart was beating faster than before. His eyes were wide open; he was terrified of what he'd see if he closed them.

Once he'd calmed down a bit, he sat up on his bed and hugged his knees to his chest; he began rocking back and forth, knowing that he wouldn't sleep a wink that night.

* * *

But he wasn't the only one who spent a sleepless night.

In the adjacent room, Hazel lay on her bed, eyes wide open as she listened to her half-brother's screams.


End file.
